Where do I stand?
by Daalny
Summary: Richard is unsure about his position in Isobel's life.
1. Chapter 1

Doctor Richard Clarkson was enjoying dinner at Crawley House. It was a weekly occurrence that he would dine with Mrs. Isobel Crawley. While he was delighted that he was spending time with her he had no clue as to what it was that she wanted. Each night that he left her she seemed forlorn yet at Thirsk she had rejected his advances. He was at a loss and had finally summoned enough courage to ask her.

There was a drop of whiskey in his tumbler and he drained it. With all the formalities done he stood, "Well I must be going."

"Must you?" She asked her voice laced with disappointment.

It was now or never, "Isobel, I'm confused and have been for some time. What is it that you want from me?"

"I thought we were having an evening." Isobel muttered somewhat taken aback.

"We have and it has been wonderful, yet you made it clear that you don't want more than that. If that has changed you need to let me know, I don't want anymore confusion." He said clearly before kissing her on the cheek and leaving Crawley House. Outside he sighed heavily, he had either just destroyed whatever relationship he had with Isobel Crawley or perhaps by some miracle a new one might form. Only time would tell him which.

Inside Crawley House Isobel was numb. Richard Clarkson had called her on the carpet. He had just told her how far he was willing to go. If she was honest she had been selfish with him. These months that he had been by her side she had relied on him. Truth be told she had taken him for granted. To her he was a constant, she never really considered what these nights might be doing to him. She had thought he would have known instinctively that she wanted him but she had sabotaged that.

That night she didn't sleep, if she wasn't careful she could lose him. Nonetheless, she had no idea how to court a man. Surely sending him flowers wouldn't endear him to her. When morning came she found that everything a battle, she couldn't decide on what to wear. The first ensemble made her look to formal, the second outfit made her seem too young "Mutton dressed up as Pate" her mother's voice shouted in her mind. She finally decided on a soft purple blouse and black skirt. It was her day to be at the hospital and she was glad to be there. Her apron was hanging in the corner and she retrieved it. Placing it over her head her hands reached behind her for the ties. Her right hand found the tie easily but her left hand kept fumbling running to the end quickly forcing the fabric to fall from her fingers. Muttering under her breath she turned her head only to feel warmth as a pair of hands easily took the ties from hers and tied them in a bow.

"There' Richard proclaimed as the apron was tied.

"Thank you" Isobel said genuinely.

"Could you assist me in the main ward today?" He asked.

"Yes" Was all she could manage.

Richard had seen her come in and had noted the dark the circles under her eyes. He wondered if it was because of him? He wasn't a sadist, he didn't want her to suffer. However, he couldn't live in the limbo of not knowing. If she wanted him just to be her friend he would do that but the signals she had been giving him made him think she wanted more.

Together they went to assess the first patient, his lungs needed to be listened to. Wordlessly Clarkson handed over his stethoscope. Isobel took it and listened to the breath sounds, she could hear rattles a clear sign of bronchitis. He motioned for her to join him away from the patient. When she reached him she asked, "Does he have fever?"

"Not as of yet, we've been cooling him. Another nurse is fetching some more inhalants." he said softly.

"I'll go boil some water." Isobel said before moving off to comply with her own order.

Later when she was filling the apparatus she heard noticed the charge nurse, Nora Chapman, speaking with the doctor. She said something that made him smile and emit a small laugh. The sight made her feel cold inside, she wanted to be the one to make him laugh. Turning her head she got back to work.

That night as she tried to find sleep again she put together a tentative plan.

In the morning she was once again on rounds with Richard but the time wasn't right to speak of personal matters. Finally before noon she had a chance. "I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me on Friday?"

She watched in horror as his face fell, "I'm going out on Friday, there's a play in Ripon. Nora came into some tickets some time ago and she asked me and I said yes."

His response was like a blow but instead of bursting into tears she took a shaky breath, "Are you free Saturday?"

She kept her eyes downcast not wanting to see in his face his rejection. She almost missed his soft, "Yes."

Her head rose and her eyes showed shock so he repeated his answer, "Yes, I'm free Saturday."

The idea that he had made plans without her, that he had a life without her made her want to scream. Should she act like a jealous lover and attack Nora? Isobel snorted outloud at the thought, Nora Chapman was just a friend...wasn't she?"

Hours later more water needed to be boiled so she filled the kettle. Nora was also in need of water the charge nurse came to the back area and acknowledged Isobel, "Patient with laceration to the arm. Blood everywhere."

Isobel held up the kettle, "Rash of bronchitis."

"Want to swap?" Nora asked.

Isobel cocked her head, "Actually yes. I don't think I've worked on or even seen a laceration in months."

Nora moved to isobel's side to take the kettle from her. As Isobel moved to the shelf to retrieve a jug she asked, "Hear you're going to a play on Friday?"

Nora blushed and Isobel felt sick inside, "Oh yes, my husband Frank bought me the tickets yet he hates the theatre. I can't believe he even bought the tickets! So I'm sending him to the Pub and with the spare ticket I asked Dr. Clarkson if he wanted to go and he said yes."

Isobel felt as if she were drunk, Nora was married? She couldn't think. Generally she knew about those she worked with. She then remembered that Nora came to the Cottage hospital shortly after the death of Matthew. At that time she wasn't in the mood to learn anyone's personal history. Some nurses also chose not to wear wedding bands due to irritation from all the hand washing.

Isobel quickly grabbed a jug and filled it with water the patient needed to be tended to. Before leaving she said with sincerity, "I do hope you have a good time."


	2. Chapter 2

After ten minutes with the laceration patient Isobel had wished she had stayed with her bronchitis sufferer. At least the wheezing and gurgling she could tune out. The man she and doctor Clarkson were treating was obviously drunk and belligerent. The alcohol had a dual effect, the first being it had numbed the patient he hadn't even felt the glass when it had sliced his arm open. Also the liquor had thinned his blood so the sutured wound was still bleeding. Isobel was trying to stem the flow of blood with some wadded up gauze. Seeing that the applied pressure was having no effect Clarkson called for silver nitrate which Isobel went to fetch. As she walked to the medicine cabinet Clarkson noticed the patient oggling her backside and he made a chuckling grunt of appreciation.

Clarkson merely inhaled deeply and murmured, "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your hands and _eyes_ off of my nurses."

The drunk man chuckled again and look up towards Clarkson his intent to stare him down. He tried and failed miserably. With Isobel's return the patient was much more sedate.

The application of the silver nitrate was able to cauterize the wound and the man was able to leave. After that encounter Isobel no longer grumbled about the inhalation apparatus.

Friday morning the hospital was buzzing with the excitement of the evening bringing with the impending weekend. Even the patients seemed a little more cooperative! Isobel worked dutifully while she knew that Nora and Richard were attending the play as friends she still felt a tad of resentment. Not wanting to cast a shadow on their upcoming outing she kept out of their way. She worked through her lunch break and snuck a sandwich in the store room. She even cleaned up Nora's area so she could leave early to change for the night out in Ripon. She had meant what she had said, she did hope that Nora and Richard would have a good time.

At the theatre in Ripon Richard found himself laughing alongside Nora as indeed most of those still left in the audience were cackling madly. The play itself was supposed to be an austere drama. However, the production quality and acting was so spectacularly bad that it almost rivaled pantomime. At the end of the performance Nora and Richard decided to deaden the pain of their aching ribs by joining Frank Chapman at the Pub he was hiding out at. The Public house was warm, inviting and crowded. It took a moment for Nora to find her husband, there was a wave and she began moving towards a corner.

"You should have gone Frank, you would've enjoyed it!" Nora declared as her husband rose from the bench seat of his table to kiss his wife's cheek.

At this display of affection Richard felt a pang of envy. Oh how he wanted to have this, and to have it with Isobel. Again while he didn't want to see her suffer it had heartened him when she seemed distraught over the news that he would be attending the play with Nora. _Isobel_ his mind repeated. What was she doing at this moment? Was she thinking of him? He covertly checked his pocket-watch with a sigh...Saturday was still a few hours away.

Frank's face showed a look of concern as he viewed the man sitting across from him. "Are you all right doctor? You seem miles away."

Nora nudged her husband with her elbow and hissed, "Leave him be, woman trouble."

In a move he generally saved for Isobel he rolled his eyes before bowing his head over the table.

Nora just nodded, before plastering a huge smile onto her face. "That Nurse Crawley, if looks could kill my Frank here would be a widower."

Richard's head snapped up and Nora was stunned at the piercing gaze of his blue eyes. "What?" he barked as did Frank. Luckily the noise level in the Pub was sufficient for their table not to be stared at by other patrons.

Nora turned to her husband a gave him a look that shouted, "Be quiet." She then leaned in conspiratorially which led the two men to lean in with her. "When she found out that you and I would be coming to this thing she was both livid and sad. As if I had stolen her toy and then set it on fire. Then when I mentioned Frank and how you were basically doing me a favor she seemed to deflate."

Richard puzzlement must have shown on his face for Nora pealed with laughter, "Oh come now doctor. I'm not blind and you'll be pleased to know your attempts are not in vain."

Richard's head was now in his hand, "Am I that obvious?" He nearly whined.

Nora laughed inwardly at her bosses display of emotion. "No, but Rachel told me and she was the only one who knew." Nora said a little sadly.

Rachel Iverson was the charge nurse before Nora, she had seen all the signs that the Doctor fancied Nurse Crawley. She had been the one to suggest the fair. The day before she had left Downton with her husband to work in another county. Sadly news had come in about a month ago she had died in an accident. Their drinks arrived and all three gave a silent salute to Rachel before taking a sip. With this new found knowledge that Richard wasn't hallucinating Isobel's reaction to the news he allowed himself to relax. Tomorrow he would dine with Isobel. Tomorrow he would see her again.

Saturday morning arrived and Richard found himself awake at dawn. He made himself a pot of tea and set to work. Reviewing charts took most of the morning, by the afternoon he was able to go back to his cottage. He ran himself a bath and shaved before donning his black tie.

Isobel had gone to bed early Friday night and had actually slept. Saturday morning she found herself in the garden of Crawley House clipping some blooms to place in a vase for dinner. The dilemma of trying to select clothes was indicative of a deeper problem one that Isobel knew she would have to tell Richard about. He had been upfront about what he wanted so she would be upfront about herself. After he had all the facts if he chose not to pursue her she would understand. In fact a part of her would be relieved! Yet there was a bigger part of her that would be saddened if he were to go. It was this thought that had her turning back to her wardrobe for something suitable. Isobel had forgone black dresses altogether in favor or a silver-grey gown. When the bell announced his arrival she felt relieved and anxious all at the same time.

When Richard saw Isobel he felt warmth pool inside of him. She was wearing a simple gown however, it's color was grabbed his attention. The soft grey seemed shockingly bright after months and months of black. Also the fact that she had worn it for _him_ had his heart beating quicker. While the table layout was the same it always was it was the addition of two candles that signaled this dinner was going to be different.

The tension between them was almost tangible, as if it had coalesced into human form and was the third guest sitting with them at dinner. Not knowing where to start Isobel asked about the hospital which was silly since nothing had really changed in the past twenty-four hours. Richard too was finding it difficult to talk about anything besides the reason that they were here.

"How was the play?" Isobel asked in desperation.

Apparently this was the right question, for Richard began detailing the horrifically bad play with missed lines and poorly designed sets. How during Act II one of the actors had frozen on stage after a missed line and the other actors around him were murmuring lines out of the sides of their mouths. How nearly a third of the audience left after the first act. Isobel found herself swept away by his narration and laughed openly along with him. It was good to see her laugh, she deserved to be happy after everything that had happened. When the story ended with the ushers hastily pulling the curtain down before the last line was spoken was the end of the tale. It was also the end of dinner and Isobel knew that she couldn't stall anymore. It was time she told him the truth.

Isobel sighed before turning serious, "Richard, I know what I want. I want to have a relationship with you beyond what we have now." She could hear his breathing quicken in delight, " However, I think you need to know somethings. Things that might change your feelings towards me."

Her tone had him worried, "What type of things."

Isobel felt herself become lightheaded almost dizzy and thought that yes people _could_ actually die of embarrassment. "There's a reason why Matthew was an only child." She sucked in a quick breath before babbling, "You see...there's...I'm frigid."

Richard was stunned, how could it be that this woman who was so passionate in _everything_ she did be frigid? He wanted to ask more questions but could see she still needed to speak. Her hands were in her lap, twisting the cloth napkin in an attempt to control her shaking voice. "It's the main reason of why I said No to you at the fair. While ours probably wouldn't be a loveless marriage it would most definitely be a sexless one and no one should be tied to that."

Her thoughts turned to Matthew of how he turned away Lavinia after his spinal injury and she swallowed the lump in her throat at the memory of her son.

The fact that she had mentioned love was not lost on him. However, now was not the time to bring it up. She had just revealed a deep secret that obviously bothered her. Choosing his words carefully he asked,"How were you diagnosed?"

Isobel sighed and shut her eyes. "Well Reginald was a doctor and I still didn't...he couldn't...I'd rather not talk about it right now." She said weakly.

She had told him the truth and he could see what a tremendous effort it had taken for her to say it. He would obey her wishes and let the matter drop, for now. Still there was something he had to do. He stood up and walked to where she was sitting, looking down he could still see her hands twisting the square cloth. Her grip so tight that the whites of her knuckles seemed to glow. His hand came around one of her biceps in warm grip and pulled gently from her chair. As she rose the napkin fluttered the floor. Once she was standing he used his other hand to tilt up her chin before leaning in to kiss her lips. He applied gentle pressure not wanting to scare her. The pressure she returned shy and hesitant. Nonetheless she had returned his kiss. He pulled away, "Will you let me see you again?"

Isobel was puzzled and looked at him, he didn't seem to be looking at her with pity, what they had just shared wasn't a goodbye kiss?

He noted the dazed look in her eye and repeated his question, "Will you let me see you again?"

Her brain finally processed that he wouldn't be leaving that he still wanted to pursue a relationship, knowing he needed an answer she forced her vocal cords to work. "Yes." She whispered.

With her acceptance he felt momentary relief which was quickly tempered by the fact that they had a whole host of other issues to sort out. He went over to the drinks table and poured her sherry while he poured himself a whiskey. After the revelations at dinner God knew they both needed a stiff drink.


	3. Chapter 3

Isobel was glad of the drink, for it occupied her hands and now her blush could be blamed on the alcohol. Richard too was glad of the whiskey in his hand.

Awkward silence had now joined tension as the fourth guest at Crawley House. Nothing could be solved further tonight. Both hastily guzzled their drinks before Isobel escorted him to the door. Before he left he kissed her lips and she gave him a wave from the door.

Isobel closed the door and leaned wearily against it. She could have kept quiet and kept her secret until the grave. With the death of Matthew she was so incredibly lonely and Richard made her happy. It was only right that he knew what he would be getting if he decided to stay with her.

Love-making the term made her cringe. She had been a virgin when she had married Reginald as had he. Their wedding night while sweet was also clumsy and awkward. She knew her initial breaching would sting yet even afterwards there was no pleasure for her in their couplings. No sweet feelings, no indescribable bliss! She was no fool she had seen copies of _The Pearl_ and had heard whispers of other women of what went on in the bedroom. She pushed her memories aside and began picking up the drinks' glasses. While the servants could do it she wanted to be occupied.

As Richard walked through the village towards his cottage his mind was whirling. Isobel wanted a relationship with him! This thought had him buzzing with excitement. He blew out a breath, how could he even start to tackle the issue of frigidity? As a doctor he had had many conversations with men, usually over a beer and in hushed tones. Men on the eve of marriage that had no clue what to do in bed.

He had described a woman's body, how things worked and how they should proceed. He had always emphasized slowness and softness! Over his years he had also heard from his nurses that women had shyly asked for exams, worried that they were somehow broken. The fact that Reginald had been a doctor was worrying. Surely he knew the intricacies of a woman's body? Perhaps his touch was too forceful? Many women were unintentionally put off by over-eager energetic partners. There were so many possibilities.

The reality was that he just didn't know and he wouldn't until Isobel told him. She had taken a huge leap in telling him and he wasn't going to break her trust in him by fumbling around. Reaching his cottage he let himself inside and removed his black tie and put on his pajamas. Going to his bedside table he removed a pair of nail scissors. If he was going touch Isobel Crawley in anyway in the near future he didn't want his hands to be hurtful. He trimmed his nails and went as far to rub a cream containing lanolin into his hands. While it wouldn't get rid of all the callouses he had on his hands at least they would be marginally softer.

Sunday they spent apart, Clarkson was on duty at the hospital. Isobel went to Church services with the rest of the Crawley's. It felt good to be with the family. Cousin Violet was sitting next to her in the pew. Several times during the service she coughed into a lace handkerchief. Isobel was concerned, she had never seen the formidable woman with so much as a sniffle. When the service was over Isobel stripped off her glove and pressed the inside of her wrist to Violet's forehead. "You're burning up!"

"I feel awful." the dowager countess confirmed.

"Let's get you home." Isobel said and in another shock Violet agreed.

Dr. Clarkson was summoned, the diagnosis was bronchitis. Richard knew that Isobel would be the one caring for Old Lady Grantham, "Shall I bring round the apparatus?"

Isobel scoffed, "Yes, and I won't grumble."

As he left to retrieve the items Isobel busied herself gathering the items she would need to treat Cousin Violet. It would be grueling yet oddly enough it was the grueling assignments that propelled her forward. She had found herself again by helping Charles Grigg. Perhaps if she helped Cousin Violet through this illness she would be able to find more of herself?

It had been a trying few days but pneumonia had been avoided. Richard saw that Isobel was tired, "You need to rest."

The fact that she didn't argue with him told how tired she was. As they walked together she was nearly dead on her feet. His cottage was closer than Crawley House and he took her there. As she sat at his small kitchen table she watched as he expertly filled a kettle for tea. He seemed oddly at home in a kitchen and she found she like it. As the kettle began to boil he hummed softly, pieces of random tunes floating through the kitchen. Isobel's neck was stiff from two days and nights of being in a hard wood chair. Her hand rose to knead at the knot at the back of her neck.

The kettle whistled, she watched as he took it off of the stove and poured the steaming water into the teapot. He moved away to let it steep. As he moved to the table he saw that she was rubbing her neck and shoulder, on instinct he came behind her and pushed her hands down while his own came to her neck and shoulders. His thumbs found the knot and began easing it loose. Isobel moaned in contentment, Richard felt elated the human body was capable of incredible pleasure. The fact that she could feel pleasure at this act gave him hope that perhaps other forms of pleasure would be possible.

His hands were banishing the aches and pains. She rolled her head forward to give him better access. He could see the graceful curve of her back as she arched over the table. Slowly Isobel became aware of the noises she was making and she stiffened. Richard felt her freeze beneath his hands. His own hands stopped their motion and he muttered. "Tea should be ready."

He left to attend the tea and Isobel felt relief. A mug appeared before her and once again she happy there was something to occupy her. The tea along with some biscuits helped revive her. Richard abandoned his tea halfway through, he grabbed his coat "Let me walk you home."

The walk seemed short to Isobel all too soon Crawley House neared, "After I've had some rest would you care to have dinner? I thought perhaps we could go out?"

Richard held the door open for her, "Sounds lovely, you rest up and I'll drive us to where you wish to go."

Being bold she kissed him on the lips before going inside the house, as she turned to close the door she regarded him. His eyes burned with want and Isobel felt powerful that she had been the one to put it there and she found herself lingering at the door.

"Sleep" he demanded. She obeyed trodding further into the house as he pulled shut the door behind her. Wearily she climbed the stairs and collapsed onto her bed. That night before bed he once again tended to his hands making sure his nails were trimmed and hand weren't cracked from hand washing.

It was Friday before they could be with one another, Isobel had chosen a local eatery for dinner so there was no need for a car. It was as they walked back through the village that Richard spoke about the "issue". "Does touch bother you?" He remembered how she had stiffened after his massage of her neck

She considered his question. "No, I don't think it does."

"The other day, you seemed to enjoy my touch and then you didn't." He said softly.

She stopped walking, "It felt good...it's just been such a long time since I've been touched. A handshake here, perhaps a kiss on the cheek. It was just a bit overwhelming."

He understood you didn't just throw someone who couldn't swim into the ocean. "Isobel, will you let me touch you? You don't have to take off your clothes. Can I just touch you like I did before? You can touch me if you want."

His willingness and tenderness had her wanting to cry she swallowed dryly before answering, "Please"

Richard knew that for this to work it would have to be on her terms, "Would you be more comfortable at Crawley House?"

Again she had to consider his question. While Crawley House was where she lived it wasn't comforting and she was not afforded privacy. "Can we go to your cottage instead?"

"Of course" He murmured.

The cottage seemed to radiate with a warmth that Isobel craved, once inside Richard lit a lamp and went about lighting a fire. Instead of the armchair she went back to the kitchen table and sat down. When the fire was sustaining he rose and washed his hands before going to where she was sitting. His hands went to her neck to once again massage out the tension. The dress she was wearing had an ornate collar and it was hindering his hands.

"Stop." she said and instantly his hands left her body.

She stood from the table, Richard was frozen on the spot. She smiled at him, "give me a minute please." She strode towards the bathroom and he went to check on the fire. In the bathroom Isobel carefully removed her dress, and then her corset. She was clad in her slip, as she adjusted the strap on her shoulder she spied his dark brown dressing gown hanging from a hook. Shyly she took it down from the hook and pushed her arms through it. Opening the door she padded back into the front room.

He hadn't heard her approach, she saw him squatting before the fire, the firelight flickering over his face. She cleared her throat and he turned. Again his eyes smoldered as he took in her form. The dressing gown was too large, the seams of the shoulders nearly resting on her biceps. The deep V of the gown showed the white slip underneath. She made her way back to the kitchen table and sat back down.

Richard came behind her and gently pulled on the collar of the dressing gown so it came around her shoulders almost like a shawl. He could see her neck, shoulders and if he leaned forward he could see the top of her chest. Her skin was decorated with freckles and he ached to trace them, to form patterns in his mind. His hands went to her shoulders and began massaging them as he had done before. When his hands came into contact with her skin her eyes closed. His palms and fingers were soft and warm. His touch was sure and Isobel found herself relaxing into his touch. A moan escaped her throat and she swiftly clamped her mouth shut.

Richard's hands stilled and found himself sad. How could he undo obvious decades of conditioning in regards to sex? Isobel wasn't a virgin in need of direction she was a grown woman who had to _relearn_ that sex could be good. He pulled out the other chair and sat down. "Isobel, don't be afraid of it. I won't be cross. I need to know what you like and what you don't. I'll never reprimand you for it."

She nodded and then became aware that his dressing gown was pooled low nearly around her waist. She pulled it up around her shoulders and pulled the belt tightly. When he had made the fire he had removed his jacket and had rolled up his sleeves. She made a motion with her hand for one of his. He extended his left hand and she took it in both of hers. Her fingers caressed his fingers before massaging his palm. When her thumbs reached his wrist he moaned and Isobel felt a rush. Was this what he felt when she made noise?

As her fingers moved up his arms she spoke shyly and it made Richard anxious. Isobel Crawley was not one to be shy he strained his ears to listen to her. "My mother was not one to give advice. She generally deferred to my father in all things. Nevertheless, she advised me to keep quiet in the marital bed. To defer to my husband in those particular matters. Since she never asked much of me I did as I was told...besides Reginald preferred it quiet."

Richard listened intently, her fingers kept moving along the inside of his arm. "Was there anything that you did enjoy?" He asked softly.

Isobel smiled, "I liked the fact that what we did would bring about a child. When I fell pregnant with Matthew it was such a relief for it meant my body _did_ work."

He felt a sick twinge, how many women thought they were defective? How many just laid there waiting for the act to be completed? If she did grant him the honor of being in his bed he would make damn sure she wouldn't just lie there! His vow was cemented in place when her fingers went back to his palm and then stilled before they moved to entwine her fingers with his.


	4. Chapter 4

The fact that she was willing to touch him was encouraging. More so was the fact that she had spoken openly of what was clearly a taboo subject. Men could engage in sex freely, in fact it was almost encouraged. If a man had sex before marriage it was laughed off as sowing oats. Women were supposed to remain chaste until marriage lest they have the label of having fallen. How were women or men for that matter supposed to gain information?

Some years ago Richard had stumbled over a copy of _My Secret Life_. One of his patients had gifted him with a box of books, mostly medical in nature however tucked away was a volume of this gentleman's exploits. However, the nature of the book made it hard to get the other volumes. There had been a short lived magazine called _The Pearl_ which hadn't lasted two years before it was shut down.

It was getting late, Isobel went back to the bathroom and put her dress back on. Richard walked her back to Crawley House. While he had told her that she had to tell him what she wanted he decided to go against his own orders and kiss her. His lips applied more pressure than his previous ones had and her hands went to his chest. At first he thought she was going to push him away but she didn't. Her palms simply ran over his chest, learning the topography.

She moaned and Richard felt himself responding to her sounds. Not wanting to scare her he pulled away.

Her tongue peeked out to run over her lips as if to capture his taste and Richard ached to show her the pleasures of the flesh. He caressed her cheek and she whispered, "I liked that."

At this Richard hissed in want, she was responsive and telling him her preferences. He kissed her again, this time slowly and with less fervor. It was she who pulled away and whispered, "Good night" as she turned to open her door.

Her back was to him but asked, "Will you let me see you again?" knowing full well what the answer would be. She turned to glance at him over her shoulder and boldly said, "Yes."

At the hospital Nora noticed a change, Nurse Crawley and Doctor Clarkson seemed to be closer than usual. Nonetheless, her instincts as a woman let her know that they hadn't become intimate. More patients were being admitted with bronchitis, summer couldn't come fast enough to dry out the hills so damp couldn't take hold.

Inside his cottage Richard set his bag down, hung up his coat and hat and began to make a fire. A knock at his door had him rising. Isobel was on his doorstep a bottle in hand, "This is a surprise, I thought I wouldn't be seeing you until Friday."

She brightened, "I come bearing gifts." She said handing him the bottle.

"Glenmorangie" he whispered in awe his eyes widening. "How did you get your hands on this?"

"My secret." she said wickedly.

With him absorbed with the bottle she simply walked past him and went inside the cottage. Finally realizing that his door was wide open he shut the door and went to find some glasses. Instead of the kitchen he went to a small cupboard where he kept his cut crystal tumblers. A fine liquid like this needed to be held in an equally fine vessel. He came back to the front room where Isobel was sitting before the fire. He handed her the glass and watched as her eyes roamed appreciatively over the patterns in the glass.

He sat and watched her slowly sipping and enjoying her gift. She too took a sip to steel her nerves, "I would like to talk, I have some questions."

"Anything, you can ask me anything." He said truthfully.

Isobel put her glass down on a small table and resisted the urge not to wring her hands in her lap. "Did you...Have you ever engaged in self pleasure?"

Richard willed himself not to show embarrassment. It was vital that Isobel ask questions and that he give her honest answers. "Yes I have."

She picked up her glass again, "Is it the same as when you're with a woman or is it different? I've read what that psychiatrist wrote about women... how there are two types of conclusion. I was just wondering if it was the same for men somehow?" She shook her head and took a sip of her drink she was unhappy that she couldn't articulate her thoughts clearly.

"Being intimate with another person feels more intense than being intimate with yourself but it has its place. It's also easier for men for we obviously can see what we have to work with, take matters into our our hand. Most men and I'm including myself, mainly use self pleasure as stress relief nothing more." He said softly.

Richard was certain that Isobel had never engaged in any exploration of her body but he still needed to know for sure. "have you ever engaged in self pleasure?"

She shook her head in the negative and Richard's suspicions were confirmed. "No. Reginald tried on several occasions, touching me and I just couldn't...get there. Since he had no luck I just... didn't. "

She stared down into her drink the light from the fire was making the amber liquid cast a glow on her face. Did she know how beautiful she was? He was overcome by the urge to touch her and before he knew it the words were tumbling from his lips, "Can I touch you again?"

"No." She said and he swallowed thickly.

She put down her drink and stood. He stood as well his intent was to escort her to the door. Before he could move she ran her fingers down his arm. "I want to touch you. I want you to remove your clothes except your underwear and lie down on your bed."

He swallowed again this time his throat suddenly dry. There was no chance of denying her, he simply went to his bedroom to comply. He shucked off clothes and decided to turn down the bed. Instead of lying flat on his back he lay on his front. The sheets were cool against his skin a refreshing contrast after being so close to the fire. He startled when he felt fingertips run down his spine. He craned his head and saw her behind him, she was once again clad in his robe and he found he like the sight. With her shoes off he hadn't heard her approach. Gracefully she climbed the bed knelt beside him. He turned his head back so it was pillowed by the mattress. She began her touch on his right shoulder blade. She traced it with her forefinger before laying her palm flat over it. He sighed and she continued.

"Can you talk to me?" She asked quietly.

"What do you want to talk about?" He murmured before groaning as her fingers found tight muscle and began kneading it.

"What was your first experience like?" She asked.

Richard exhaled a breath, "Truth be told I don't remember much about it. I do remember it being over awfully quick."

Her hands stilled on his shoulders, "Did you enjoy it?"

He turned over onto his side and propped his head up with his hand. He wanted to be able to see her during this conversation. "I think on some level I did but Isobel it was so long ago. What about you? What do you remember about your first time?"

She sighed sharply before murmuring, "Everything, I was waiting in the bedroom wearing only my dressing gown. Reginald came in we shared a laugh. He kissed me, he was wearing a dressing gown as well. We laid down together the gowns came off. He started kissing me and then I became a woman. It hurt but I knew it would I remember thinking that I would be different, that it would change me. When it was all over I didn't feel any different."

She stopped talking and he merely pulled her to him, securing her to him and just held her. Being in close contact, horizontal and full of whisky had them falling asleep.

The next night saw Isobel on the bed clad in her slip as Richard's hands glided up and down her body. She was lying on her back as his palms skimmed over her breasts and down her sides. She used her voice to tell him what areas to stay away from and what area's to concentrate on. He stayed away from obvious erogenous zones to focus on her hidden ones.

It became a ritual of sorts they would come into his cottage, he would strip down to his shorts and she would strip to her slip before donning his dressing gown. They would touch and talk. Once again she commanded him to lie on the bed and he did so. Her hands always began at his shoulder and he relaxed into her touch. Fingers followed along the bumps of his spine and Richard could feel himself becoming aroused at her touch. He surrendered to the feeling and moaned in contentment. Her touches were inflaming and he found himself trying to shift his weight off of his growing erection. He grunted in frustration and her hands left his skin and he held his breath to listen more closely.

"Turn over." Came her command.

Again he obeyed without protest. As he settled on his back he saw that she was not wearing the robe, she was simply clad in her slip. What was more interesting was her eyes, her pupils had dilated. She was just as aroused as he was! He reached for her and she came willingly. He kissed her and pulled her against him. At the contact she moaned and kissed him back. She was in his bed and she was being a willing and enthusiastic participant. Through her slip he caressed one of her breasts she made no sound at this but her hips moved against his. More kisses were traded and the air between them was growing hot. His tongue touched hers and she felt desire pool low in her body. She began making needy sounds and Richard drank it in greedily. His hand wandered down to her hip and he asked, "Can I?"

"Yes" she nearly wailed.

His hand could feel her warmth through the slip. He grabbed the hem and pushed it up over her hip. As his fingers neared her he could tell she was holding her breath. He nuzzled against her collarbone hoping the slight tickling sensation would distract her. When it didn't he moved his body against hers, his cloth covered arousal made contact with her thigh making her gasp. He used this distraction to his advantage and gently touched her. He drew lazy circles against her and she cried out. Her hips canted forward into his touch, mentally cheering his kissed her neck and he increased his speed. Her cries were coming closer together and increasing in pitch. The woman in his arms was hot, flushed, wanton and alive not the depiction of frigidity. Her body was warm against his providing him with much needed friction and he bucked against her. Like teenagers they were half clothed and locked in a passionate frottage. Isobel was gasping trying to force her lungs to work. Richard's fingers pressed down lightly and he watched as the woman in his arms came apart in the first orgasm she had ever experienced. In this modest bed in a small cottage Isobell Turnbull Crawley had just discovered the delights of the flesh and Richard Douglas Clarkson had been the man who had given it to her. Nothing could compare to this, not a million pounds, not a trip around the world. The sight, sounds and the feel of her against him had him chasing after her.


	5. Chapter 5

Isobel and Richard were both breathing hard, his arms came around her and held her to him. She was grateful for his arms securing her. Her heart hammered in her chest and her arms and legs trembled with aftershocks following her orgasm. _An orgasm_ her mind shouted.

Her head swam with the knowledge, after all her years she had finally experienced what the authors had written about, what her fellow nurses had whispered about, what poems were actually _on_ about. Beside her Richard moved, she could feel the front of his shorts sticky and wet.

"You?" She croaked as she gently pressed against his groin with her thigh.

"Yes, oh yes Isobel." He rasped back, it had been a very long time since he had come in his shorts. What a sight they must look, him with his wet-stained shorts and sweat soaked skin. Isobel's slip was bunched around her waist, her shoulder straps askew, and her hair was plastered to her face. Richard looked at her as her chest heaved, she looked debauched and Richard enjoyed the sight. If she looked this way just by him touching her what would she look like after they had made love? Would all her skin glow? He wanted to know but for now he used his imagination. She rolled towards him and kissed his lips before nuzzling against him. His own hands touched what skin was already bare, her shoulder and good portion of her upper thigh.

Sometime later they left the bed, both were hungry. Richard put on his pajama bottoms and strode out to the kitchen while Isobel went to the bathroom. She wanted a quick bath. She spun the taps and watched the tub fill with steaming water. As she swung her leg over she felt a twinge the water had a dual benefit of not only getting clean but of soothing muscles. Her legs ached! Richard left her alone, he knew she needed time to process everything that had just happened.

He gathered items from the pantry to make them something to eat. As he cut up cheese he sipped some of the fine whisky that Isobel had brought over a few days ago. When she emerged he saw she was wearing his dressing gown. While they had just shared something deeply intimate they still hadn't bared themselves to one another.

_One thing at a time._

She sat at the table and he placed a plate in front of her and she smiled in appreciation. It was oddly fitting that he be shirtless and eating a meal while she was freshly bathed, glowing with sexual completion in his dressing gown. There was no odd comments, no awkward conversations it was silent. Both ate heartily, Isobel made a gesture that she too wanted some whisky and he kindly obliged.

Over the next few days Isobel experienced a feeling of grief and she avoided Richard. He let her go hoping that she would come back to him eventually. He found that he couldn't wait.

During lunch break at the hospital he found her outside on the stone bench, "You've been avoiding me."

"No!" She exclaimed before looking at him and whispering, "Yes, but it's not something you did."

He sat down beside cradling a mug of tea. "I feel betrayed, not by you but by Reginald and the fact that he's dead doesn't…"

She blew out a breath, "You showed me something, shared with me something that I never thought I could achieve, something that I want to have happen again.

"Now?" He said cheekily and she slapped his shoulder playfully. The tension around them diminished.

Her smile fell as she became serious once again, "I've been mourning over what could have been. If I had had that, if I had enjoyed that when I was younger would I have been happier? Would I have had more children? Things like that."

Richard swallowed, and tried to think of what it would be like. As if he had been blindfolded all his life since everyone had convinced him that he was blind only to take off the blindfold one day to experience the bright light of day. In concept he could imagine it but he knew he couldn't actually comprehend it. Isobel was living with it.

"Were you not happy?" He asked.

Her face lit up in remembrance and he felt no jealously, "We had some good times together and some bad ones. Overall we were very...stable together. He had his work, I had mine and Matthew. But on the nights that he showed interest in me I resigned myself to it. I even claimed my monthly courses on a few occasions just to get out of it. Isn't that awful?"

Richard shook his head, "No, I don't think it is."

Isobel shook her own head, "But the marital contract."

Realization slammed into Richard, she had said no to his marriage proposal to protect herself. Husbands were well within their rights to have intercourse when they wished.

"Will you let me see you again?" He asked.

"Yes, and I want more than that." She replied.

Her words had him flushing with arousal and he had to will his blood to stay in his brain and not rush south.

From her position at the window Nora Chapman could see Nurse Crawley and Doctor Clarkson engaged in conversation on the bench outside. The past few days the air around them had been tense. From their faces the conversation seemed serious she then watched as Nurse Crawley belted the doctor. She silently prayed that all would be well between them. Her prayer must have been answered swiftly for after he slugged him both sported huge smiles. After that she left the window and returned to her duties.

The weather was slowly changing giving way to warmer temperatures, at night the fire that was lit was more for mood than for heat. The bottle of Glenmorangie was slowly dwindling, normally Isobel didn't care for such harsh spirits but this one was pleasing having tasted on Richard's lips on more than one occasion. She watched as he twirled the glass in his palm, his fingers splaying before coming together, it was rhythmic, hypnotic and signaled that there was something on his mind.

"What is it? You can ask me anything. You can tell me anything." She said confidently.

His blue eyes regarded her, she was more bold and that made her even more beautiful. He didn't doubt that she cared for him but he had to know for sure.

"Do you love me?" He asked inquisitively.

Her eyes seemed to flash from the light from the lamp. "Yes, I love you. I loved you at Thirsk, I loved you before and after Matthew died and I love you now."

He felt high at her words, as if he were going to float out of his seat. He had always hoped but had never dreamt that she would love him with the intensity that he loved her.

It was his turn to voice his regrets, "I should have told you that I was in love with you that day at the fair."

She smiled, "You're telling me now aren't you?"

"Yes." He declared. "I love you."

The moment was broken when one of their stomachs growled. Isobel smiled and rose from her chair, "I'm hungry, let's go to the Pub my treat.."

"Your treat, then shift woman!" He bellowed and followed behind her.

Instead of the Grantham Arms they chose the Dog and Duck, the proprietor acknowledged their entrance. "Hello Doctor...Ma'am."

They sat down and placed their order for dinner. "What's your favorite color? I just now realized that I've known you for years and never asked."

She chuckled, "Blue, I love the color blue. Dark blue, light blue any and all of the shades." She said with a smile. "Green on the other hand I hate green." Her eyes showed her disdain for the color.

"Any reason why?" He asked off hand.

He should know the truth, "I never like the color, I like grass and plants but on myself I don't like the way green looks. Then my mother purchases my trousseau...all green!" Richard smirked at her story but she wasn't done, "And there was one particular item was a silk dressing gown-it was green."

Richard swallowed, it must have been that dressing gown that had hid her nude body before she had given it to her husband on her wedding night. No wonder she hand another reason to hate green!

Their food arrived and they began eating. Halfway through a glint caught Isobel's eye. The light from the pub had reflected off of the utensils Richard was using. Because of this her attention was brought to his hands. She noted that his nails were short and neat, and she knew well that his hands were firm yet soft. His fingers had touched her and brought her intense pleasure. She wanted to feel those sensations again and she wanted him to be the one to give them to her. More than that she wanted to feel his weight upon her, have him between her thighs. She could almost hear his moans in her head and she let her mind wander. His ears detected that her utensils were no longer clinking together and he looked up from his plate. He found that she was staring off into space and he stared back confused. Isobel then noticed him and found herself blushing under his gaze, she wanted him. She felt herself grow warm and she shifted in her seat. At her movement Richard felt a stab of concern until he looked more closely at her face. Her cheeks held a pleasant hue and her eyes were dark. She shifted again in her seat-she was rubbing her thighs together! He had no doubt as to what she was thinking about. Dinner would be finished shortly and afterwards they could leave. He was going to take a chance, he shifted his chair closer to hers.

"Done with your food already?" She asked meekly desperate to change the topic.

Deciding to jump off the cliff he whispered, "I think you would taste better."

Her breathing increased and he leaned in closer, "God, Isobel I want you now. I want to see you out of that slip. I want to run my hands over your skin and have you touch me as well. I want to take you to our bed. It is our bed you know it's not mine."

"I want that too." His jump off the cliff had managed to land him in an ocean of water.

Slowly she raised her head to look at him, "Take me to our bed."

He didn't care that she had offered to pay, he reached blindly into his wallet and threw down some bills. He knew it was too much but he didn't care. The Pub had crowded since they had arrived and no one paid any attention to the couple as they made their way out of the Pub and into the night.

Isobel walked quickly she didn't want to lose hold of this feeling. She was so afraid that it would vanish as soon as they made it to the cottage. Somehow Richard knew and he pulled on her hand. She drew up short and emitted a noise of frustration. In return he jammed his mouth over hers, her hands went to his hair and he could feel her nails dance across his scalp. She moaned into the kiss and he had to tear himself away, "Christ, Isobel I have never wanted _anything_ as much as I want you right now!"

She merely grabbed his hand and pulled him along. The door to the cottage shut with a clang and bolts clicked into place loudly. They moved to the bedroom some of their movements were graceful others were clumsy but they arrived. Clothes were coming off and soon Isobel wore only her slip and Richard his shorts.

_Isn't this familiar?_

She traced the waistband of his shorts with her fingers and slowly his hands came up to cover hers and together they pushed down the fabric. He stood before and let her look as she wished. He had to resist the urge to curl his hands into loose fists as he did in the Army. He would stand in front of her until she gave him some inkling that she wanted to continue. He didn't have to wait long for her own hands trailed up her body before pushing the straps of her slip off of her shoulders. The silk quickly joined its other brethren of fabric on the floor. Her hands came around to tangle in his hair so she could kiss him. His hands slid around her back and his hands roamed up and down feeling what seemed to be acres of skin. Her mouth came away from his and heavy breathing was all that could be heard. She coughed slightly, "Talk to me please."

With what mental power he could muster he thought back to what she had told him

_My mother was not one to give advice. She generally deferred to my father in all things. Nevertheless, she advised me to keep quiet in the marital bed. To defer to my husband in those particular matters. Since she never asked much of me I did as I was told...besides reginald preferred it quiet._

He would talk all night if she wished.

"Let's lie down." He whispered and she nodded against him.

He knew she didn't need a constant litany from him, no need to recite a soliloquy just enough that she knew he was there with her and that her needs were of importance in this bed. After they had sprawled out upon the bed he moved to cover her, "Good?"

"Yes" she answered back. His weight was pleasing and he was so warm!

He was kissing her neck in intervals speaking in between touches.

"I want you so much." *kiss* "I love you so much." *kiss* "I want _this_ so much."

He kissed her throat again and she hummed. He then pulled away, "What do you want?"

Isobel suddenly wished she hadn't asked him to talk. Her mind reminded her that this was _Richard_, the man who had touched her so expertly. Her mouth opened but she couldn't speak.

"Whisper it" was his command.

She pulled on his hair to tilt his head down so she could whisper into his ear. When she was done his knees nudged hers apart, he settled his weight more evenly over her. His tongue swiped a path over her throat and delighted in her taste. He kissed her again while one of his hands moved between them. He traced lightly over her labia secure in the knowledge that she was more than ready for him. His hand came up to brace by her shoulder and he gently breached her. All the lessons he had given to lads over the years came back to him now _Slowness and softness!_

_"_Good?" He rasped.

Isobel shut her eyes, it was good and she moaned in response before tilting her hips up to encourage him to move. At this small action he rolled his hips against hers and she mewled.

"Isobel, oh Isobel!" he murmured again.

A pace emerged and the sounds she was making had him talking up a storm.

"So good, Isobel." He babbled.

She kissed his cheek before crying out as one of his thrusts hit a place within her that she made her feel as though she was melting.

"Like that?" He grunted.

She moaned and he did again and again. He worked his left hand between them and quickly found her center. Remembering which motions she had liked best he moved his fingers. He watched as she threw back her head and wailed.

"Yes, Isobel that's it. Don't be afraid of it. Yes." He praised her. He could feel her stiffen around him. Through her haze she dimly heard him utter something that sounded like "So good." before he too hissed in release.


	6. Chapter 6

Richard fought to retain his senses and not drift along in the pleasure induced haze. Isobel was quiet beneath him and he needed to know if she was all right. He if he had hurt her chances were he wouldn't be able to repair what he had done. Gathering her up he could hear that she was sniffling, she was crying!

"Isobel what is it?" he asked gently but firmly. He watched as she swiped her face with the back of her hand, the dim light made her tears glisten.

"Different, I feel different." She said with awe and he inwardly sighed that she wasn't hurt.

He let her cry, let her tears express what she couldn't say. He let her hands wander over his chest, he let her do anything she wanted. Her tears soon dried up and together they reached down to pull up the covers. Richard exhaled sharply, he was suddenly glad for all the call outs on his bicycle for it had maintained his fitness! Periodically Isobel would touch him, a stroke down his arm followed minutes later by a caress along his chest. He willed himself to stay awake if she needed him as a sounding board he would be awake to listen.

Isobel was tired yet her mind was buzzing not allowing her to rest. Never before has she felt anything like that she swallowed and felt that her throat was sore. Never before had she cried out so wantonly, instead of feeling embarrassed she shivered at the memory of what made her cry out. The feeling, the overwhelming sensation of feeling full and then her muscles tensing before letting go. She only had her other experience with Richard to compare it to but what she had just experienced felt stronger and with it she felt a connection to Richard. Oh how she wished she had said yes to him months ago and she emitted a frustrated grunt at the thought.

At her sound he tightened his grip around her. "What's the matter, I know something is." He spoke to her.

His fingers were carding through her hair, his short blunt nails were massaging her scalp. Her face was pillowed by his chest and he could feel her lips move against his skin. "I just thought of what I fool I was at the fair."

He snorted, "We weren't ready then no matter what we both might have thought. I was loaded on cider and you...you were protecting yourself and you had a bloody good reason to do so."

He turned on his side and put some space between them so he could see her more clearly, "With our respective professions and life experiences we know how precious life is. How things can be snatched away in an instant. What is important is that we have now."

She remembered how he was in the dowager's front room, rolling his eyes and telling her to hold her horses. "When did you get so eloquent?"

He shrugged and his left forefinger began tracing idle patterns on her shoulder before trailing down her arm. "I had a lot of time to think after the Fair. When you told me you valued my friendship and didn't want anything further I'll have to admit it gutted me. The thought of being with you but not being able to _have_ you was torture. Then Matthew died and everything changed. You needed me and I wasn't going to deny you. However, you then changed, or at least I thought you did. You seemed to need me, to want me in _that_ way. I had hope that you would tell me what you wanted but it went on. I knew I would have to ask you, I had to know where I stood."

Isobel was floored, she had just assumed if they were to carry on as friends as they had been then nothing would've changed. Many of her friends had terminated relationships with men and had admonished that they remain friends. Now she realized how cruel that could be! She thought of how she felt when she discovered that Richard was going to the play with Nora. She had felt sick and as though she was losing something irreplaceable and for a moment she couldn't stomach the thought of working next to him with him being with Nora. That feeling was one of the worst she had felt and if Richard had felt that and still decided to be with her...she then launched herself at him.

He gasped in relief and surprise and leaned into kiss her back. She returned his kisses with all the remaining passion she could muster. The blanket slid down and he rolled her beneath him, "All right?" He murmured in between kisses.

"Yes" she answered before running her hands down his sides. A few more kisses and she could feel him harden against against her thigh and she rubbed against it. Now it was his turn to moan at the contact. Isobel felt teeth dig into her shoulder and she found the sensation wasn't unpleasant. The things she was discovering! "Good?" He asked. Isobel sighed while she understood and appreciated his need to ascertain if she was alright at this moment it was just infuriating, "Just kiss me!" Grinning madly he did just that before slipping inside her again. The sensation of envelopment was soothing and maddening and he needed more of it! He was going to pay for this tomorrow but it was price he was willing to pay. Now, at this moment they were together and he was going to make the most of it.

In the morning both were sore and both covertly snuck an aspirin without the others knowledge. Isobel didn't want Richard thinking he had hurt her and Richard didn't want Isobel thinking he wouldn't be able to make love with her again if she wished. Once again Richard helped Isobel with her apron and if his hands lingered longer than they should have done it wasn't mentioned.

Just after nine a man strode into the Cottage Hospital. Doctor Clarkson had a visitor, it was Roger Watts the owner of The Dog and Duck. Nora Chapman knew that Doctor Clarkson was currently in his office consulting with a patient so intercepted Mr. Watts. "Is something wrong Mr. Watts."

Mr. Watts shuffled up to Nora and withdrew his hand from his pocket, at first Nora thought he had been suffering from a sort of muscle cramp since his hand was formed into fist. Upon closer inspection she saw that he was holding something, Roger saw her inquisitive glance and opened his fist revealing currency. "No, I wanted to return the remainder Dr. Clarkson's money. Him and Nurse Crawley left so quickly the other night it must have been something serious for them two to scamper off so quick. Rosie, had taken note of they ordered and we deducted that from what he had left on the table."

This was news to Nora, she mentally reviewed the charts. Nothing had come in, what could have possibly...?

Her thought was cut off as Doctor Clarkson entered into the main ward. "Mr. Watts, how may I be of service?"

Mr. Watts face lit up at the doctor's approach, "Oh, I was just telling Nurse Chapman here I was returning your money. You and Nurse Crawley dashed off so quickly we thought it must be an emergency." He extended his hand to the doctor.

Just as Clarkson's fingers made contact with the bills Nurse Crawley stumbled upon the group. "Nurse Chapman, has the new inventory been-"

Isobel looked up and saw that she was intruding, "I'm sorry to interrupt. Please excuse me."

Mr. Watts was glad that she had arrived, more so he was thrilled to be a hero of sorts returning the money. He quickly stammered, "Oh it's no bother, just giving the doctor back his money that he left when you and he had that meal."

Isobel's cheeks blushed in memory of why the money had been put down so hastily. Richard saw her response and his face too changed from his normal mask to one of love. Nora saw it, and knew exactly what type of emergency had made the couple leave the Pub. She bit her cheek to keep from laughing at the scene. It seems her prayers had been answered to her full intent.

That night in the cottage Richard chuckled as Isobel put on his dressing gown, his chuckle turned into a groan as he watched her place it over her nude form. Her slip had been tossed _somewhere_. "Perhaps I should buy a new one and give you that one."

She pursed her lips and shook her head, "I would just take that one if you did" Her face then broke out into a smile, "as long as it wasn't green."

He laughed openly, "I actually like that on you, it's too large for your frame, the fit is all wrong and somehow that makes it perfect."

"Well the dressing gown would be a nice signing bonus on the marital contract." She said mischievously.

Richard didn't know if she was being playful or telling the truth. His hand gently coiled around her bicep, "Do you mean that Isobel? Do you?"

Isobel saw the hesitation along with the anticipation on his face and realized that she had never answered his question from the other night. _However, you then changed, or at least I thought you did. You seemed to need me, to want me in that way. I had hope that you would tell me what you wanted but it went on. I knew I would have to ask you, I had to know where I stood._ "You want to know where you stand?"

He nodded he was still too stunned to speak.

She encircled the third finger of his left hand with her fingers and there was no misunderstanding her gesture, he looked into her eyes and willed himself to breathe normally. She caressed his ring finger imagining the gold band she could place there, "Where you've always stood, right beside me. "

* * *

**A/N: Epilogue to follow**


	7. Epilogue

Richard Douglas Clarkson was nervous, his hands shook as he tied his bowtie. The dark blue tie was not square and he yanked it open and began again. Eventually he was able to master the knot. He sighed, and looked at himself in the mirror. He was clad in his grey suit, with a dark blue tie and light blue handkerchief peeking out of his breast pocket. It was what he had wore that day when he had first asked Isobel to marry him.

He knew that Isobel too was wearing the same clothes from Thirsk. He had seen her pulling out her light blue suit and hat. Today they would exchange vows and legally become man and wife. Richard knew he could provide financially for Isobel and that he could also satisfy her carnal needs. However, he had some fear, would he be a good husband? He had no clue what else being a husband entailed. Many a time had he seen men carrying flowers through the village their heads either held high in love the flowers a trophy. Or heads hung in shame and the flowers a token of their apology.

Would he anger her? Would he too trod through the village with bouquet? The last time he had shared a space with others was when he was living at home with his family. He had shared a room with his brother, he rolled his eyes at the messes Scott would leave on the floor. From out in the hall he could hear Isobel humming and at that moment he would plant her a sea of flowers in the garden to keep her happy.

In the car Isobel noted that her future husband was quiet. "Are you all right?"

His head cocked to the side and he blew out a breath, "Anxious, never done this before and I'm a little frightened."

Isobel was touched, "All you have to do is repeat what is said to you and I'll be right in front of you the entire time."

Richard had seen weddings but the fact that this one was to be his own had him a little dopey, "That's it?"

She smiled, "That's it." She repeated before patting her pocket, making sure the item she had placed there earlier was still inside. The registrars office loomed and the car was parked. They went inside, signed the respective paperwork and waited to be called back.

Richard did as he was told and calmly repeated the vows the registrar made a motion with his hand, "And now the ring."

Richard removed a wedding band from his pocket and placed it on the third finger of Isobel's left hand. The registrar then began again, "With this ring, I plight thee my troth."

"With this ring, I plight thee my troth…" Richard repeated.

Richard inhaled before he repeated, "As a symbol of all we have promised."

"And all that we share." He declared.

Richards fingers were still holding onto the wedding band securing it in place, Isobel could feel the metal warming against her skin, she wanted it to brand her.

The registrar closed his book, "It, therefore, gives me great pleasure to say you are now husband and wife together."

A nod from the registrar was all that was needed for the couple to come together and share their first wedded kiss.

As they got into the car Isobel reached into her own pocket and withdrew a band that she had had fitted for him. Men didn't usually wear bands but she wanted him to have it. "This is for you, you don't have to wear it if you don't want to, I just wanted you to have a symbol of my promise to you."

He took the ring from her hand and stared at it. The band was a simple circle but it conveyed so much. Confidently he slid it onto his wedding finger marveling that it fit, he reminded himself to ask her later how she had gotten his size.

As he drove them back to Downton, back to cottage, back to their bed he thought about how in future long after they were dead and buried that someone could look in the hall of records and see that they had wed. He inhaled sharply at this fact and Isobel's hand reached for his left one gently encircling his fingers and his ring. "How do you feel?"

He slowed the car and looked at her and she saw his face was filled with wonder, "Different, oh Isobel! I feel different!"

* * *

**A/N: Hope you all have enjoyed!**


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